


Who Truly Was Jay Gatsby?

by Tarj



Category: Great Gatsby - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby (1974), The Great Gatsby (2013)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-03
Updated: 2015-05-03
Packaged: 2018-03-28 21:36:35
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 896
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3870613
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Tarj/pseuds/Tarj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is just a short story about a partygoer who had the chance to meet the great, Jay Gatsby. It was an encounter I had to create for a paper in English, in which my English teacher actually fell in love with my OC (she shipped my OC and Gatsby). This is just a cut down version of the whole story - hope you enjoy.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Who Truly Was Jay Gatsby?

         I never did get used to living in the bright lights of the city. I always found myself buying a little remote getaway, nestled by a body of water. The niece of a wealthy businessman living in a three story house, being that it was expected of me. The name says it all- Harkness- as if everywhere I go, I am suppose to be met with much kindness or fondness. It never suited me, nor did the task of painting myself as an upstage doll every now and then. My close, or rather should I say- acquaintance Lucille prompted me, in the summer of 1921 to try something new. We went to several juice joints and ritzy clubs but nothing topped the party at Gatsby’s.

         A colossal of a mansion, one like my own, his place was. It was nestled in West Egg, seemingly a little different from the usual. Walking up to the house, was an experience of its own; bearcats, fishes, and friends of my own gathered in this one little place. Although, no one held the same couture as my own, it seemed as though I was not an individual. Every being driving up to the door, oozing with excitement were merely dancers like myself. We were apart of a musical- a ballet of some sort, me only being another ballerina, adding to the effect of the scene -and what a scene it was.

       Music blasting, orchestrating the mindless puppets that swayed side to side in the main room. I could not take in everything, my eyes faltering over the opulence of one’s such establishment. It rivaled my own in many aspects, making me feel only a bit discouraged. Even with the excitement happening all around me, I remained reserved and quiet - not creating a picture of myself that I may regret painting later on. As I moved around the party; groups of individuals, basking in gossip filled my ears until they became numb. One conversation, settled on the fact that no one knew the host. I questioned this anxiously, as Lucille only gave me a name- Gatsby.

       As the night winded down, the party no less became wilder as many were entranced by the overflow of alcohol. Many men attempted to idle me with chatter, but the stench of alcohol proved bothersome for most who tried. The last man, David worsened the situation, only rambling about the issues of his wife and money. It was when I looked away from the disheveled man, that I saw a sight I never experienced before. Quickly, I scrambled off to meet the owner of the smile that gave me such comfort as well as relief.

       Before I could leave my foot from the last step of the winding staircase, I was met with the smile again - a smile like water, managing to sweep away all of your anxieties and troubles with easy - a smile that replaced them by a crystalline fondness. This would not be the last time that I would witness such. Every time, every night I would come, seeking the man whose smile would captivate me in a bottle, only his laughter would break me free.

       I fell in love hard, not knowing the consequences for letting my heart flutter into a vacuum of his mind, soul, body. He was very pleasing to the eye as well as the mind. His words, flowed gracefully from the mouth that weakened me in the knees. His laughter would pour into me like wine from a chalice; molding such a rigid being into someone calmer as our words would linger through the night. Unfortunately, every advance I would take, seemed to keep me farther away from his heart.

      Whenever I talked about love, his eyes sparkled with hopefulness but not for my love. This he seemed to shine a bit brighter for, would be a love that I would never be able to touch or to hold. On occasion, he spoke of a woman with a smile that could stop your very heart and skin smooth as the rarest pearl.

     Time most certainly is a strange thing. I asked myself frequently after the nights I would spend, wrapped in his lovely gaze; how many nights, moments, years does it take for love to crystallize? To take shape from the latent vapors of dreams to turn from hopeless longings to the sweetest of kisses?

     In the end, I thought he was an endless musical; the notes- cords, strung so beautifully that one may mistaken it for a siren’s song.The moment that I learned what eventually happened to him, was the same moment I learned who he was- the mysterious man I had fallen in love with, two summers ago. All that I knew about the once mysterious man just didn’t seem to add up. The name so great, sparkled like his once ever present yellow car. The smile that seemed to have been carved by the hands of God, him- the mysterious man had made me believed he moved day to night. I will never truly know if I had interacted with Jay Gatsby or the man hidden underneath the exterior. I am just thankful that I was able to spend a moment in his limited time.

Someone that great, could have never lived too long, for people like him are too special for this world.


End file.
